


想不起来

by Jenovahh



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bondage, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Drabble, Exploring Dark Themes, Gaslighting, Obsession, Other, Possessive Behavior, Sad Ending, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2020-06-26 20:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 19,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19776298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenovahh/pseuds/Jenovahh
Summary: There's no resisting the pull. Not when he steals into your room at night to make you sing for him. Not when his hands show a tenderness of someone who has loved you enough for several lifetimes.Not even when you don't know who he is.





	1. Chapter 1

“Such interesting sounds you make, bringer of light. Tell me, were you always this... _responsive_?”

You can hardly manage a glare back into those golden depths as skilled hands stroke your arousal with utmost care, another needy gasp falling from your lips as you find yourself unable to hide it. His eyes are focused only on you, a curious quality to his gaze as well thousands of years of experience.

Thousands of years, thousands of lovers perhaps. Thousands of possible ways he could make you squirm.

And you wouldn’t put it past him, to try each and every way that could potentially bring you pleasure, had your soul not been sundered unlike his own. That doesn’t stop him from trying with what time he does have, pressing you further against the crumbled temple wall, the sounds of Ronkan statues distant with how clouded your mind was. Not that _he’d_ ever let you come to any harm, not when his fascination with you had gone beyond your gift.

He bids you to wrap your legs around his hips as he lifts you up, giving him his other hand the ability to wander. They pull lightly at the robes the Night’s Blessed had lent you, pushing the strips of cloth to the side to free your chest to his hungry eyes. Your breath catches as he leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue in a way that has your head banging back against the wall. Your hips grind against his needily, a pleased chuckle coming from his throat as he moves to give the other nipple attention.

Your hands find his hair, tempted to pull, but unsure if you should. Before you can move your hands to slide down to his shoulders, he lets out a teasing growl. “Come now Warrior, you do not need restrain yourself around me. Afraid you’ll cause me pain?” he gives you a light pinch, making you yelp in surprise. “Unless, that is where your desires lie of course.” 

Flushing deeply you look away, unable to generate an answer quickly enough. It matters not to him, a free hand holding your chin in place as he darts forward, kissing and nibbling on your neck that has you moaning all over again. “Does the Warrior enjoy being made to submit? Being so used to following orders and everyone’s wishes? Existing as a being with the power to slay gods...do you want to give up the reigns for a little while?” His breath ghosts over your neck, already slick with saliva from his attentions. 

Before you can answer him again, he grinds his hips against yours, pulling a wanton moan from your throat. “I am in no rush, bringer of light. I will enjoy learning more about you...”


	2. Darkness

It was unfair, you know. You didn’t think that one of the perks of being an immortal would be finding it unnecessary to breathe.

And yet Emet-Selch is taking advantage of that fact, only his golden eyes visible in the darkness of your room within the Crystarium. His tongue glides on your arousal with utmost care, as if unwilling to waste a single drop as you shiver atop the bed.

“So quiet.” he whispers against your flushed skin, somehow loud in the dark of the room. “I would think the walls thick enough for certain activities, if that is what you fear.” He pauses to press his mouth on you once more, sucking hard to force a helpless moan from your throat. “And even were that not the case, it would certainly make you the talk of the town.” You don’t have to look down between your legs in the dark to know he’s grinning, entirely too pleased with his handiwork. “Afraid the Scions will find out?”

“L-Leave me alone...” you rasp, your legs kicking at him much like a newborn fawn, muscles trembling with pleasure. 

“Leave you alone?” he echos, pressing a kiss to your skin. “Did I not tell you I would share with you my knowledge?” Another kiss as he lifts your leg over his shoulder to nibble at your inner thigh. “I’ve taken quite a liking to sharing _all that I know_ with you.”

As sweet as the words themselves sound, his voice is like the darkest silk, filled with a promise you’re unsure if you want him to keep. You’re somehow unable to resist his charms every time he crawls into your bed, unable to fight against his will when he pulls you into secluded darkness away from your friends. One might call it obsession, but you could see it, see him for what he was.

You were but mere amusement for him, your needy whimpers and gasps of ecstasy but a point of interest in his eons long life. He’s able to stop you at every turn, as if he knows your body better than yourself. When you reach for his hair to push him away, he licks at your skin, making you pull him closer. When you fight to push him off he only pushes his hips against your own, letting you feel his arousal. 

And for all the times he’s let you feel it, he’s never once graced you with the pleasure, seeming content enough with your own. 

Peering down at those lazy golden eyes again you resign yourself for another sleepless night at his mercy, unable to fight him in his own domain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no promises this will go any further, just churning out horny stuff as i desire


	3. Questions

Emet-Selch was not a man, _a being_ , above using his strength to make you...behave.

On the nights you resisted his will a little too much, tried to turn the tables in your favor, he would remind you just who held the power. His eyes would not look any different, if anything more bemused than anything at your vain struggles, your illusion of free will.

“Another burst of denial, Bringer of Light?” he purrs, pinning your wrists with one hand, clutching your chin in the other. His grip isn’t painful or forceful, as much as it is you cannot hope to fight his strength. He is like stone, unmoving no matter how hard you try to free yourself from his grasp.

With a sigh, his eyes slide shut, tutting at what he would consider your antics. “Your kind, so weak, so clueless.” Again with cryptic words, their meaning muddled and nonsensical to anyone but him. It doesn’t stop you from questioning him.

“W-What am I lacking?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper as his thigh slides between your own. “What is it I don’t know?” you continue as he turns your head to the side, pressing your cheek into the cool wall. His teeth nibble at your neck, your heart thudding in your chest having him be so close with you unable to free your hands.

“Have I ever given you reason to fear, Warrior?” he mumbles, kissing the skin instead. It would make sense he could pick up on your fear, however brief. “You are not asking the right questions. You are lacking in certain areas.” he answers, rubbing his thigh against your arousal. Try as you might a needy whimper is pulled from your throat, prompting a satisfied smirk against it as well. 

“Perhaps one day, you will know the right things to ask.” You don’t have to look at him to know he is grinning, your neck remaining obediently in place as his hand slides down your body to cup your arousal. “But until then...” he drifts off, shifting your hands to tangle in his hair. “I will entertain myself.”


	4. Beg

“P-Please...”

You hated it, absolutely hated it, when he teased you like this. It was part of his amusement you knew, to hold release just within reach, holding back just before you could fall into sweet oblivion.

And only you begging for it, would he oblige you with what you coveted so dearly.

His fingers gently rub against your aching hole, your liquids staining his fingers with a light sheen. Your face is redder than a dalamud popoto, your body flushed from head to toe. He hovers over you, eyes glinting dangerously, daring you to oppose his will.

You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. About fighting against him in earnest, to fight against his precise touches, his sinful lips. But you fear not what would he do, but what he would not do.

If he would stop coming to see you at all.

You don’t know what to call this arrangement, where at night he creeps into your bed, or in the day where he steals you from under the Scion’s nose to have you gasp his name in sweet release. There’s always a pleased look in his eyes, of a job well done, but also a sense of expectation, as if he’s waiting for something. A hint of disappointment as your knees give out and you crumple to the floor in a sorry heap.

“What are you waiting for?” you ask breathless, staring into those bright gold eyes. 

“You know full well what I want.” he murmurs, voice not leaving room for argument. 

“I d-don’t,” your sentence is cut off with a keening sound from your lips as a finger slips inside once more, thrusting deep, fucking you with them. 

“Beg.” It is a command, an order.

“Emet-Selch, please,” you cry out, fingers gripping his robes as tight as you can manage in your lust induced haze. “T-Tell me what you want...”

“Is it not obvious?” he curls his fingers just so and stars burst behind your eyes, his name shouted into the night. “You, dear Warrior. From the very beginning, I have always wanted you.”


	5. Rebel

You are barely able to slide out of Emet-Selch’s hold when he appears, moving like water to flow to the other side of the room.

“Feeling rebellious today are we?” he hums, eyes alight with challenge. But you’re not here for challenges today. You want answers. You want to know why...

“Why do you keep doing this?” you blurt out, backing away with every step he takes. Even though he is still slouched, his dominance radiates from his very being, his superiority a god given fact that you can see. It’s a delicate dance you’ve started, resisting a being such as he in full. For every step he takes forward, you take another back. You never let him get too close to one side, maintaining a circle with him until he stops moving altogether.

Sighing, he reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Must you be so headstrong today, hero?” he asks, as if he is loathe to expend the extra effort. 

“I must, when you....look at me that way.” You try to not let your voice waver, to keep it firm and strong, when you feel frail and weak. When he lays those eyes on you, it’s as if you feel a deeper part of yourself, wanting to give in. Wanting to stop resisting...

“Tiring of my seduction?” he teases, immediately making you red in the face. 

“N-No.” you admit, suddenly embarrassed to acknowledge it. “What I mean is...how you look at me...like you’re waiting for something.” Finding your voice, you continue on. “It’s an expectant look. And sometimes you look disappointed. Sometimes you look at me as if I’m the most....beautiful thing in the world...”

He has remained silent during all this, expression deceptively neutral. “You are finally asking the right questions.” he drones. “Perhaps, there is hope.” his voice sounds wistful, until suddenly your vision is awash with darkness, the Ascian before you has vanished. “I am waiting hero.” his voice echos from all around you, and you know he has you trapped a realm of his making.

“I cannot tell you what for.” You scream as he sounds as if he behind you, jumping away and falling to your knees. “I cannot tell you why.” Standing, you glance all around you, a cold sweat running down your back. “All I can do is see you when I desire...” you gasp as arms suddenly wrap around you from behind, possessive in their strength. “And wait.”

You try to push him off but there’s no fighting against his strength as he kisses at your neck, immediately stoking a fire between your legs. “You can’t...do this...” you ground out, gasping as his hand cups your arousal, as if he hadn’t heard you at all. “Why do you want me?” you cry out as you melt into his touch, cursing yourself from falling into his hands once again.

He smirks against your neck, holding you tighter against him. “Because you are _mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't decided if i want this to have a happy ending or not


	6. Wait

The moments you have to yourself are far and few in between but you take them. 

You take them to think deeply about this arrangement you have, unable to confide in anyone but yourself this dark secret. What would the others say, if they knew that the Ascian would steal into your room to bed you, or steal you away to have his way with you?

And every time he did, you would let him.

You could not explain why you gave in so easily. You could not point a finger on why you felt you couldn’t resist. Shouldn’t resist. 

You couldn’t ignore the feeling of _home_ that you felt when you were in his arms.

The way he treated you as a lover was unlike anything you had ever felt. As if he already knew your needs before you could give voice to them. He would always know when to go faster, when to stop, when you liked to be teased. It was as exhilarating as it was concerning. Like there was something you were missing.

He had appeared so suddenly after you had defeated Titania, let Feo Ul become the next king in your stead. He had looked at you with a hint of disbelief before it was gone as fast as it came. Though the others had rejected his offer, one look at him and you felt as if you could never deny him anything.

The look he returned said that he knew that for a fact.

Later that same night did he slink into your quarters, making his offer again, to which you could only manage to give half an answer. A promise to think about it. He had frowned then, but sighed wistfully all the same, not so easily defeated.

_‘Then I suppose I will have to keep visiting until you reconsider my offer.’_

His visits were sparse, but you knew he was always near. Be it hidden as a bird flying overhead or watching you from the convenience of whatever high up place he had found, you could always feel his eyes on you. Watching. Waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [taps mic] is thing on


	7. Start

“Oh dear hero. You look so exhausted.”

You frown as you find Emet-Selch behind you once again, turning immediately to face him. You _are_ exhausted, still somewhat fresh off the heels of your battle with Titania, Feo Ul inheriting the throne in your place. You had a few days rest before the Scions would trek off to the Rat’ika Greatwood in search of Y’shtola, so you wouldn’t take this break for granted.

Would that this Ascian being would leave you alone.

“I’m...trying to get my rest. In my _private_ quarters.” you sigh, plopping down on the soft bed. He’s not phased by your annoyance at all, in fact he seems amused by it as if there’s something you don’t know.

“Indeed, these are your private quarters. Which is why I came to offer you my help.” Those dark lips pull into a smile, one you feel unsure you can trust. He hasn’t done anything to you yet unlike other Ascians, so he can’t be _that_ bad...could he?

“Your help?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. “I thought I already gave you my answer...” you trail off, suddenly unable to look him in the face.

“Your non-answer yes, but I can be patient.” he smiles, taking a single step toward you. “However I am not here on the account of the fate of this realm. Consider this a more...personal visit.” There’s a thousand hidden possibilities in that one sentence, and you’re afraid to find out even one of them. 

“Well in that case...what is the purpose of your visit?” you ask hesitantly, suddenly wishing to stand, but suddenly he is before you, a firm hand keeping you seated on the bed. For some reason you’re not immediately alarmed by his nearness, his gaze kind as he stares down at you.

“Why, to help you relax of course.” Gently, yet firmly he urges you to lay down on the bed, your eyes never leaving his as his bore into yours. “Let me soothe those aches of yours dear hero. Perhaps I can prove my usefulness to you that way?” 

Frowning you allow him to roll you over on your stomach, your hair prickling as if you are under the gaze of a great predator. “I don’t...”

“Now, now. If I had wanted to kill you, you’d be dead a hundred times over.” Silk covered hands reach for your back, kneading gently into your muscles. Almost instantly you relax, subconsciously reaching into his touch. As he had promised, you can feel your aches being melted away under his skillful hands. He massages your shoulders, massages your arms until you are like putty in his grasp. You’ve relaxed so fully in his presence that it takes you a moment to realize his hands had drifted close to your inner thigh.

Your vision is hazy as you slowly open your eyes, looking back to find him massaging the backs of your thighs as if it were nothing. “D-Does an Ascian not have better things to do? Than give adventurers back rubs?” you ask warily, seeing a heated look into those golden orbs.

Smirking, his hands reach higher. “You are _far_ more than just an adventurer.” He grins, hands pressing to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You quickly look away as you quickly muffle a whimper into the pillow, trying to tug your legs away but failing in his strong grip. “I don’t think,”

Bold and shameless, his hand reaches between your legs, cupping your arousal as if he knew you were waiting for him to _touch_ you all along. A moan is torn from your lips, hands gripping the pillow tightly. “It has been some time for you, hasn’t it?” he asks. He hasn’t stopped rubbing, your breath starting to come fast.

It _has_ been some time but you find yourself too embarrassed to voice it beneath his half lidded stare. His weight feels familiar as he climbs onto the bed, your legs parting for him to get between as he flips you over to face him.

“Why do I...” you murmur as he cups your chin in hand. “How do you...”

He smiles a knowing smile, before bringing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. His lips are softer than anything you’ve ever felt, and you find yourself wanting more. It’s not he who deepens the kiss, but you, begging for entrance his your tongue dances with his. The fire in your belly is a full on blaze, desire fueling your actions like never before. 

“So eager.” he whispers, voice husky with arousal as he brings your legs to wrap around his hips. “Tell me what you need, dear Warrior.”

“Touch me,” you beg, rubbing yourself against him like a wanton, head in a haze as he slowly pushes your clothes aside. A flurry of need and passion overtakes you, so much so you ignore the distant feeling of getting in too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just in case anyone was curious the plot of this drabble series can be expressed with [this gif](https://media0.giphy.com/media/3oz8xtBx06mcZWoNJm/source.gif)


	8. Float

For every step you feel closer, you somehow feel further away.

Something tugs on the edge of your consciousness; a wish, a prayer, a hope.

It is strongest in your sleep, a yearning so strong that it threatens to pull you apart.

But who does your heart call out to? What...who does it long for?

Everything points to _him_ somehow. Ever since he had put himself before you, its as if your entire existence had centered around his own.

_“You know who I am.” you had said, staring him down, his gold eyes shining even in the blackest of night._

_“I do.”  
_

_“You won’t tell me.” A statement, and also a question.  
_

_“I won’t.” An answer._  


You float upon water, drifting slowly, slowly, eyes reflecting the stars above. For someone who walked on two feet, you felt surprisingly at home in the water, enjoying the weightlessness, how it seemed to never end.

It was frustrating, dealing with the fact there was something you didn’t know. Something he felt you should remember. But what did you need to remember? Was it something about the past? _Your_ past? Something about him? Something about you?

It made your head hurt, just thinking too hard about it. As if there was a door that would not budge, and you had misplaced the key.

In times like this you wish you had heeded Zenos’ words; to get more in tune with your power. Perhaps the Echo could help somehow, if you could use it on yourself to force any sort of memory to the surface.

Was it...memories? Something you needed to remember? Closing your eyes you surrender yourself to the unending darkness, floating freely. Darkness wasn’t so scary sometimes. It could be welcoming. In a world of unending light, you had fostered a new appreciation for what the darkness could bring.

“You will prune, staying out in the water like that.”  


Opening your eyes, it is dark still, but you are no longer floating in water, but pure black magic itself. “I was thinking.” you state, unable to see him, but knowing he is there.

“Should I have left you to drown?” he asks, his voice all around you. Darkness creeps up your leg until it forms into a hand. Your eyes meet his coolly, a simple acceptance in your bones. Resisting has gotten you nowhere after all.  


Well, he seems to like a little resistance out of you anyway.

“I can’t drown.” you sigh, letting his hand creep steadily up your thigh. His hand is still gloved, the silk feeling amazing against your skin. He gives a firm squeeze on your inner thigh, a slow breath passing your lips.  


“Really now?” he asks in surprise, though you know it is fake. “You will have to recount to me that story then.” His fingers gently brush against your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.   


“With you around? I doubt it.” you scoff, hips rising to meet his hand.  


A light chuckle rings in your ears, as you close your eyes and surrender yourself to him once more. “You’re learning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to change the title of this fic but idk to what


	9. Know

You are certainly not the most studious of the Scions, Urianger clutching tight to that title, but you are capable of research nonetheless.

It is with careful words and an easy grin that you question Urianger, Y’shtola for their books on what they know. Your sudden interest in books catches them by surprise, but they otherwise leave you to it, giving you access to what knowledge they can physically share. It is in the time between the seconds Emet-Selch is not near that you get to read over these tomes, trying to find out anything at all about who you are.

The notion of being someone else, or at the least _something more_ , seems more plausible with every encounter. You were something _special_ to the Ascian, and from the way he treated you, it was to he and he alone. Lahabrea had no qualms about trying to end your life after all, and for reasons beyond your understanding, Emet-Selch didn’t hold his death against you.

For as long as the Ascians had been around, there seemed to be very little written about them. A race always manipulating from the shadows, twisting and turning the cogs of history to suit their own ends...the Rejoining. But why rejoin? For what purpose? For what end?

Clutching the tome to your hand, you look up at the stars, surrounded by the flowers of Il Mheg. Placing the book down gently, you look at your own hand, feeling the burning of light within. How could one such as he feel so attracted to you? Were you not his polar opposite? The very thing he fought to oppose?

And why could you not help but feel so attracted in return? Why did you fall to his every whim?

Sighing, you let your power roll through you, a breeze catching your hair gently. Your eyes take on a glow, feeling your gift, _her gift_ blaze brightly through you.

“I have not felt such energy in such a long time.”  


Looking up, Emet-Selch stands before you, though now he is a sizable distance away. “How long?” you question, standing to your feet.

He raises his hands, shrugs his shoulders. “Too long ago to remember.” he chuckles, that smug smile in place.

“I want to remember.”  


Those words alone wipe the smile off his face, expression distant. Feeling brave, you speak again. “You know me. And I _know_ you.” you start, unsure of your own words. “I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But there is a reason you find me at night...” His eyes narrow, arms cross as he stares you down. Apparently he won’t come near with your power blazing like this. “We...you knew me. In another lifetime. Didn’t you?” 

Your question hangs between you, the silence getting under your skin. Suddenly, darkness flourishes from him, rushing out toward you. You prepare to defend yourself, only to find you flinched for an attack that didn’t land. Opening your eyes, you gasp as that same darkness mingles with your power, as if it is welcomed. There is a new feeling, almost like a sixth sense as his aether mingles with yours, the darkness never truly overtaking the light. The light never overwhelming the darkness. Within that darkness you feel a yearning so painfully familiar to the ones you feel when alone, an affection so strong it makes you crumple to the ground.

“I knew you, yes.” he finally speaks, voice barely above a whisper. His footfalls are soft, barely audible as he nears, and only because you know he wants to be heard. The torrent of feelings threatens to make you sick, before they withdraw entirely, a mortal hand tilting your chin up as he crouches before you. “I knew you....know you, better than anyone else.” His eyes are the most intense you’ve seen them, burning into your own as strokes your skin.  


“I told you, you were mine, did I not?” he asks, pressing a finger to your lip to keep you quiet. A wry smile twists his lips, a dark look marring his features. “How long have I waited...” he murmurs, eyes jumping across your features as if he is seeing you for the first time. “Misguided you may be, but I have hopes for you, as I have said before. My plans I have so carefully laid, more than a millennia worth of planning...only for you to ruin them in not even a quarter of the time.” His tone is resentful, an angry sneer twisting his lips. “But you have always fought against me, haven’t you...”  


“Stop being vague.” Your command comes out more like a plea, tears welling in your eyes. “Tell me who I, who _we_ are.” you beg, voice raw with emotion. He says nothing, only looking at you with that continued superior air. There is a flash of pity in them, a flash of hope. They are gone as fast as they came, replaced with the same bitterness he displays every waking moment.

“No.” he murmurs, moving to wipe your tear stained cheeks with his hands. Gentle lips press against yours insistently, a moan torn from your lips as he presses you against him. “That is not my job, Warrior of Darkness.” he whispers against your skin, laying you out on the flowers for him. “It is yours.”  



	10. Difficult

Manipulating your own aether is both frightening and exciting.

Exciting, in that it is like opening a third eye; that sixth sense that you had felt when Emet-Selch’s darkness had reached out for your light, mingling with it, caressing you just as he would with mortal hands.

You practice only on small things at first, simple pets and wandering animals, strangers crossing through the markets at the Crystarium. It is almost like a second sight, a glimpse into what Y’shtola must see for the eyesight she lost. There is little you can read from strangers you learn, as it seems the connection must be a two way street; you cannot peer into the hearts of men who are not open to you.

This fact becomes clearer as you grow brave enough to experiment on the Scions, able to feel feelings such as _frustration, apprehension, adoration_ from Ryne whenever she looks upon Thancred. _Regret, remorse, aggravation_ from the rogue himself. _Guilt, worry, despair_ from Urianger, which has you curious, but not enough that you would let him in on your secret. It is only when you turn your eyes toward Y’shtola that you find her staring right back with a knowing quality to her gaze, _curiosity, concern,_ rolling off of her in waves. 

“See something you like, hero?” She asks, after all she was never one to not speak her mind, the connection shutting down in a flash. Flushing red at being caught you quickly turn away, burying your face back in the tome you had feigned to be reading. 

You could read the Scions, because they had opened their hearts to you, making the weight of the feelings you had felt from Emet-Selch that much greater. However, you find you can only use this ability sparingly, the sounds of crystal cracking and shattering loud in your ears if you strain yourself for too long.

“Enjoying your newfound power?”

Immediately you reach out into the aether, only to have your connection rebuffed, the action hurting your feelings far more than you thought it should. He’s lounging in a nearby chair, not too close, not too far from the hammock provided in your room in the Fanow. Apparently you don’t do a good job of hiding your wounded feelings from him, a god awful smirk creeping across his face.

“Now, now, don’t look so hurt, Warrior. After all, you nearly got sick the first time. Wouldn’t that have been unbecoming of someone as lovely as yourself?” he grins, clicking his tongue. “And from the looks of things, you still do not remember. Such intimacies are reserved for partners. Do not get me wrong however, your attempt has me flattered.” He doesn’t seem like it though, his voice a constant taunt of the memories between you he refuses to share.

“You’re insufferable.” you growl, standing from your hammock.

“You wound me.” he leans back, casually, unbothered.

“You’re so fucking difficult.” you hiss, padding over to him gently. Nothing seems to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, golden eyes drinking in your form. 

“I’m not being anymore difficult than I have been for the past thousand years.” he murmurs, arms sneaking around your waist as you stand before him. Using his shoulders for balance you climb atop him, straddle his lap. “Though I must say, it is far easier, and much more entertaining to see you reach for something you cannot control. Your emotions are much clearer to me now.”

At that you gasp, realizing that you find yourself unable to reign in your aether, constantly slipping through your fingers as you try to reign it back in to yourself. “I have full control over my aetherical abilities.” He does not brag like you would think he would; only states it as matter of fact. “To someone as green as you are now, it is mere child’s play to tease your aether to the surface...” a whimper is torn from your throat as you feel his own aether brush against yours. 

_Lust. Desire. Obsession._

“I can feel your frustration. I can feel your determination to find out the truth.” A hand trickles up the backs of your thighs, the cloth disappearing as a silk clad hand creeps higher to your smallclothes. “That boundless curiosity...just like so many years ago...” His lips form a word in a language so foreign, even the Echo could not help you. Something slips between the connection, so weak, yet so strong that it nearly blows you away as his lips find your neck.

 _Reverence_.

Taking his face in your hands, you make him look up at you, his eyes half lidded, a heavy sigh passing from dark lips. “I have waited so long...” he breathes, bring you closer, the connection between you two halting, leaving you feeling cold. 

“You loved me, didn’t you?” you ask, resting your weight on his lap, unable to look away from those lonely eyes. He scoffs, using his hands to link your arms around his neck. 

“ _Loved_?” he repeats, one of his hands reaching up to your hair, threading through the strands with a gentleness you’ve never seen from him before. “That word alone...none of the languages you sundered souls speak could ever describe what I felt, do feel for you.” The admission doesn’t shake you as much as you thought it would, as if you had known it all along. His free hand cradles one of yours on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Full glad am I, knowing that despite the state of your soul...your feelings have not changed.” Leaning your forehead against his own, you breathe softly, feeling the world fade around you. 

“If I... _when_ I do remember...what will you do?” You ask, dread filling your very being as a dark grin pulls at his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look i finally decided on a title


	11. Mother

“Minfilia.”

Both girls turn to you, the taller of the two looking at you with a look so motherly it makes tears well in your eyes.

“Do you mind...if I ask you a question?”

Her eyes crinkle as she gives a serene smile, gently squeezing the younger girl’s shoulders. “What ails you, Warrior of Light?”

You fuss over your words, unsure how to proceed. How much did she know? Was she able to see things through the younger girl’s eyes? Was she always watching, always knowing...like him?

“What do you know...about my soul?” you finally ask, watching as the woman’s eyebrows raise. 

“Your soul?” she repeats, eyebrows furrowing. “In what way?”

“I...” Did you tell her? “Do you know? If I am....someone else?” the words themselves hurt as they pass your lips, trembling as tears leak from your eyes. Releasing the girl, she comes closer to you, gentle hands drying your tears.

“Your soul is old, yes.” She breathes, cupping your chin in her hands. Minfilia had never seemed too much older than you, at least physically. But looking into her eyes, it seemed her wisdom had stretched on for eons. “But it is still your own.” Her thumbs gently caress your face, and you can’t help but feel a deep warmth in your heart. “Even if Minfilia here, has my name, my powers...she is still her own person, is she not?”

You nod, feeling like a child before her, needing to be consoled. Maybe you did though, unable to share the burden with anyone else; not for lack of trusting your friends, but for fear of their safety. It was not a question of if Emet-Selch would hurt them, just knowing he _could_ was enough to stay your hand.

“Why would you be any different, my friend?” Her hands leave your face, taking your hands in hers. “I do not claim to know all of the Mother Crystal’s wishes....” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile on her face. “But what she has gleaned to me, is that you are her strongest champion by far. A champion she had worked on for so long, that she can only whisper what I think must be her name for you.”

Resisting the need to sniffle, you look into her sapphire eyes. “What’s that?”

“Persephone.”

Within you, you feel a tug, as if something is trying to break free. “Persephone...” the name feels strange and foreign, as if it is yours, but is not. Was that the key to it all? To the truth of your past life?

“Thank you, Minfilia.” you finally speak, feeling if anything, a little lighter. Bringing her arms around you, she holds you tight, and you return her hug with surprising strength. Saying your goodbyes, you watch as she fades into the light, both you and the now braver Ryne landing back into Amh Araeng.

You are the first to awaken, feeling somewhat disoriented. 

Quickly, you move over to Ryne, turning her over to check her pulse. Sighing in relief, you brush her now red hair from her face, resting her head on your lap as you wait for the rest of your friends to arrive.

“Enjoy your trip?”

The hair on the back of your neck immediately raises at his presence, looking over your shoulder to see him hunched over on the nearby stairs. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I thought you knew everything.” you huff, watching as he frowns.

“I never claimed to know it all.” the words are almost spat out, barely restrained fury bubbling under the surface. “Where did you go?” The way he asks is framed like a question, but is uttered more like an order. For a moment, a trickle of fear runs down your spine.

No...if he loves you...what reason is there to fear? He had even said so himself.

“I went to help Minfilia, _this_ Minfilia, to choose her own destiny.” Not a whole lie, but not a whole truth either. And by the scowl on his face, he can tell as much.

“I don’t know what you seek to gain by withholding things from me.” his voice is low, dangerously so, that has your nerves on end. 

“Do you not have your secrets? The knowledge and strength you had claimed you would share with us?” For some reason you are feeling testy today, not willing to back down from his obvious displeasure.

He merely glares at you for a moment longer. “How did you learn to control your aether?” he asks in that same tone, his anger creeping steadily through. Swallowing, you expand your senses and sure enough, you can feel a tight grip on your aether.

You had finally leveled the playing field.

“I...wasn’t aware I could control it. Perhaps, due to a memory that came to the surface.” There’s enough honesty in your voice that it seems to appease him, even as he runs a gloved hand roughly through his hair. He looks even more tired than before, aggravated even.

“I do not know where your _mother_ took you...” he whispers, a gasp torn from your throat as you feel an assault of emotions creeping over you.

_Fury. Concern. Jealousy._

And something so dark, you could not even give it words.

“But do make sure to leave me a note next time, won’t you?” Even past the thinly veiled rage, there is a pleading note to his request, that has you immediately regret antagonizing him. 

“I didn’t mean,” he shushes you, kneeling before you suddenly.

“I know you didn’t.” He grins, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Continue on as you have, hero. You must stay true to your mission after all.” Leaning close he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, sighing against your skin. “As I said before, I have high hopes for you.” Placing a quick kiss on your lips, he stands to leave. “I will visit you another night, when you are lacking company.” Waving over his shoulder, he steps into his portal, disappearing from your sight.

Turning back to the young girl in your lap, you are thankful for her deep slumber as your body shakes uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friendly reminder i have 0 idea what im doing


	12. Remember

You feel like you lied, telling Emet-Selch you couldn’t drown.

Because since you had learned that name, _Persephone_ , it’s as if he had a pressing need to be closer to you, a pressing need for you to _understand_.

So much so, that you’re gasping for breath as his hands run over your skin, each touch intentional, for he has already mapped out your body to how it wants to be played. Fanged teeth scrape lightly at your throat, sending jolts of fear and excitement down your spine as your self preservation wars with your pleasure. There are no words lately, not even words of condescension, gone is the disappointment. Now there is only urgency, a deep need and rush that he carries you on.

His fingers tease your opening, leaving you quivering in need as your fingers weakly grasp at his frame. He only drags his tongue along your skin as you whimper beneath him, your needy cries sending his aether in a frenzy around you.

_Need. Lust. Desire._

_Desperation._

You are rewarded for your pleas, oils coating his fingers as he slips a finger inside your opening, drawing him deeper. His teeth scrape across a nipple in time with his thrusts, your cries seeming to spur him further as he slips a second finger inside. Your hands find his hair, softer than the silk of his gloves, the strands slipping through your fingers even as you try to grab hold as he settles himself between your legs.

Your quivering thighs rest on his shoulders, his tongue reaching out for your opening to greedily drink you down as his name falls from your lips over and over. The more you cry out, the angrier he seems to get, the more urgent his tongue against you becomes. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, hands holding you still as your thighs threaten to crush his head between them.

“Remember.” he growls, your heels digging into his back. Your head thrashes almost in rebellion as your lost to the pleasure, fingers leaving his hair to clutch at the sheets instead. 

His tongue leaves you then, thrusting his fingers into you roughly, pace fierce as he drives you higher. Hovering over you he looks every bit the villain as your friends perceive; every bit the dark force you know him to be. “Remember!” he commands, waving a hand before his face to reveal a red mask, your eyes going wide, vision going white.

_“You’re everything to me, you know.”  
_

_Looking up, you are surrounded by purple flowers, their scent taking over your senses as you look up into familiar gold eyes._

_“Such fanciful words, Emet-Selch...are they not better reserved for your lover?” you ask, your voice timid, but not at all small. Your arms are cloaked in black, the beginnings of a flower crown in your hands.  
_

_Emet-Selch’s eyes are warm as they gaze upon you, as warm as afternoon sun beaming down on you. “I have no lover.” he smiles, crossing through the flowers to get closer to you. You do not feel fear as he gets closer, merely an idle curiosity. “Please, do not refer to me by my title. I would think we have grown familiar enough with each other as of late, have we not?” His voice is gentle as he sits next to you, and you feel your heart beat a bit faster._

_“That means you must give me your name.” you mumble, face feeling a little warm. Eyeing the flower crown in your hand, he gives a light chuckle, holding out his hands. Flowers weave themselves together in his hands, becoming a much bolder crown that he places atop your head.  
_

_“You are a show off, Emet-Selch.” you pout, despite the erratic beating of your heart.  
_

_“No titles, between us.” he smiles serenely, conjuring a black rose from thin air. “Call me,”_

“Hades.”

At that moment, the aether around you practically fractures, the feelings rushing against you in such a torrent that you find yourself gasping for air, his fingers curling within you that has you crying out.

“Again.” he growls, mask glowing a bright red, his voice on the edge of begging. “My name. Say the name of the one you ache for,” he demands, hitting that spot within you. Tears spring to your eyes as his emotions wash you away in them, a sea so vast that you cannot possibly stay afloat.

_Desperation. Hope. Joy._

“H-Hades,” you cry out as you finally fall over the edge, stars dotting your vision as you moan his name, his _real_ name. His lips find yours desperately, hand catching your chin to hold you in place as he ravishes your mouth. 

The mask vanishes, his eyes still hard, but tinted with emotions you thought the man long incapable of. He searches your expression for something, a note of despair on his face once he cannot find what he is looking for. “You are so close, my love.” he whispers, pulling his fingers from you. Your breath is ragged, lungs feeling raw as you drown in wave after wave of pure feeling. “You will remember. Remember who we were. Remember our mission...” 

Resting his forehead against yours, you slowly reach out to curl your arms around him, to anchor yourself in the tempest of his love. “I’m afraid to remember.” you confess, moving to cradle his face in your hands. “H-Hades,”

He shushes you, wiping the tears you didn’t know had begun to roll down your cheeks. “You have nothing to fear.” he smiles, his breath cool on your skin. “Continue as you are, Warrior of Light.” the way he twists your title, sounds wrong and broken. Reaching up, he places a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I will take care of things, as always.”

You want to believe him, to find solace in his words. 

_I will take care of things, as always._

Why...does that feel like a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma confess, i need better practice writing explicit stuff for gender neutral stuff. i need to stop dancin around it, read some more writing about it


	13. Name

There had to be more.

That feeling of dread never went away. As if something was trying to warn you. Like when your instincts flared up when a sword swung too close. When you were seconds away from being crushed underneath a primal’s heel.

What made it worse is that you couldn’t pinpoint the reason you felt this way. He loved you, that much was clear. He visited you night after night when he had the chance, between him coming to harass the Scions and whatever schemes he needed to tend to. You could even feel the depth of his love when the two of you connected.

Blushing, your place your hands to your cheeks, feeling their warmth. The thought of being connected with Emet-Selch, _Hades_ , sent your heart to flutter like the wings of a butterfly. It was _special_ , and you didn’t need the memories your past life to feel how much. When he reached you, you took hold of the tether, offering yourself to him as well. From there, it was if you were cast adrift in the sea of his love, his feelings so strong that they couldn’t possibly be mortal.

The love of a man who has seen his people die, _you die_ , and lived with the regrets.

That wasn’t to say that everything was milk and honey as far as the two of you were concerned. More memories began to drift in of your arguments and squabbles, from things as simple as redecorating your shared home to affairs concerning the people of the city in which the two of you lived. It was in these glimpses of the past that his personality shown through; how even back then he had still maintained a condescending air. That for even all of his love, he still knew how to piss you off and remain unrepentant, often taking days to come beg for forgiveness for being so insensitive.

Even still, you sought to try and reach deeper into your memories, to find a rhyme to the reason of the trepidation in your chest. He loved you. He _loved_ you. He would never do anything to hurt you, to forsake you...

Would it be so bad to ask? He who bears the burden of truth...that in itself would keep him from lying to you wouldn’t it? 

Looking at how his jaw tenses and his eyes harden, you have to say that isn’t the case.

“Why would you feel I’d hide something from you hero?” he ask, his words slightly pained, making you feel immediately guilty for asking. His hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as a deep sigh bellows forth.

“Not necessarily malicious!...I just feel like, in the back of my mind, as memories come and return to me...that you know something very important. Something vital to who I was,” You cut yourself off as his eyes snap open, landing on you.

“Never say that.” he growls, storming toward you. You’re frozen in place as he stands before you, looming over you as best his form can allow. “You are no different now, than you were an eternity ago.” he whispers harshly, to where you flinch, shrinking beneath him. The fear crept back, the confusion crippling you at once again feeling so very small to this timeless being, when you were used to standing above everyone else.

Slowly, his arms wrap around you, bringing you close. You allow yourself to be held, if only to calm his temper, burying your face in the furs of his coat. “This fear you feel; it is unfounded. I have nothing to tell you about yourself, that...time will not reveal to you.” Pushing you back slightly, he looks into your eyes, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “There are so many memories we share, some good, some bad. I would not even know where to start, to ease these doubts that plague you.” he chuckles lightly, running a hand through your hair. “How much do you remember?”

Pursing your lips, you look away for a moment. It had never come up outright; to reveal what memories you have recovered so far. Did you tell him you knew your name?

“At first, I remembered mostly happy things. Times of us together. Lately, there have been more of our past arguments and fights.” It feels wrong to lie to him, but he seems to buy it, golden eyes focused on you. A boyish grin graces his face, his head leaning against yours as his eyes fell shut. “You were...are very headstrong.” he breathes, holding you a little tighter.

“More than anything, I am overjoyed that you know my name.” The love in his voice is enough to make your knees weak, barely able to hold yourself up under the amount of affection you feel. “I have not heard my name spoken for so long...even Elidibus, Lahabrea; it has always been our titles between us. To hear you speak it after after so long...” The loneliness in his voice tears at your heart, making you pull him closer.

“I’m here, Hades.” You whisper, allowing him to hold you tight. He moves to bury his face in your neck, drawing a deep breath as if to help anchor himself with you.

“I have come to you every night...” he begins, breath hot against your neck, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. “I have come, to make up for lost time.” A hand moves to fist itself in your hair, tugging you back to expose more of your neck to his sharp teeth. “Once I saw the color of your soul, I knew that I must make you remember, for never in a thousand years had it shined so brightly.” His breath is raspy, desperate, as if awash in the sea of his own emotions.

Reaching out with that tether, you let him cling tight, to anchor him as he deals with his grief. The connection always takes your breath away, darkness surrounding you as he whisks you away to his domain once more. “My love,” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your neck, holding you closer and closer still. “My name, please,”

“Hades,” you cry out as his teeth bite down, breaking skin. “Hades, I’m...” Possessiveness flares through the connection, so strong that it threatens to overwhelm you as he laps at the blood that flows forth.

Pulling your head back, he makes you meet his eyes, coursing with desire and determination. “Let us never part again.” His other hand moves to run down your front, his eyes following as he trails further down. “I had promised you, on that day that we bound our souls together, that I would stay with you, until the end of time.” Your clothes melt away like wisps of smoke, leaving you bare before him, blushing over how openly he admires you. “I have already failed you once. I will not do so again.”

His hands ghost across your body, touching, feeling, mouth coming forward to have his lips move across your own. You can feel his loneliness in the kiss, not needing the aetherical tether that binds the two of you. The doubts of your mind slowly fade away, that instinctual ringing becoming more of a hum as his hands trail down your body. What he would not tell you, you were sure you would remember in time. For now, you give yourself over to him, wanting to feel him as desperately as he needed to feel you.


	14. Talk

_“Hades,”  
_

_He shushes you, bringing you into his arms. “What is wrong my love?”_

_Biting down on your lip, you hesitate on what to say. “I just...worry for you.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and it would be incredibly cute were matters not so tense._

_“Worry for me? What is there to worry for?” he asks, leaning to bury his face in your neck, nuzzling you gently.  
_

_“I...I am grateful, for the work you and the Convocation have done to save our star,” you begin, trying to focus as he presses himself against you, “but I worry for you soul. Your soul it is...it seems tainted.” He sighs against your neck, setting you back so that he may look at you.  
_

_“Have I not already told you that it is merely a result of the summoning of Zodiark?” the name itself is enough to make you wince, a frown pulling at your features. “Please, Persephone, we did what we must, to save our star.”  
_

_“I know, I know...” you whine, taking his face in your hands, making him look at you, hoping he will see into your soul. “But I cannot help but feel sorrow for those who had to offer up their aether in sacrifice. For those who are lost to us, so that the rest of us may live,” Your voice begins to tremble, tears springing to your eyes. Hades is quick to react, kissing your tears away as he brings you close to him again.  
_

_“We must remember that their sacrifice was not in vain.” He whispers, clutching you tightly. “Underneath Zodiark’s grace, I feel that we shall live only in peace, my love. You will have naught to fear...”_

Opening your eyes, you feel in a daze, the dream somehow feeling more real. More gaps are being filled, and everyday it feels like the gap between who you are and who you _were_ knits closer and closer together. Groaning, you roll over onto your side, bemoaning how firm the bed of the Pendants is. You find yourself silently wishing you had the ability to surround yourself in that darkness; a bed never truly compared to being surrounded by your lover’s very power.

With a sigh, you close your eyes again, listening to the beats of your heart, waiting.

Soon enough you feel the shift of magic, the sound of a rift opening and closing. “A bit early to desire my presence, is it not?”

“By how quickly you came, one would think you were waiting for me to call you.” you snort, not having to open your eyes to see the affronted look on his face. “I called for you, because I wanted to talk.”

He gives a light chuckle at that, steps quiet as he moves to stand by your bed, before you feel it dip as he moves to lay beside you. “Wanting to chat during these early hours? I don’t suppose you have tea and cookies ready for me?” he teases, bringing a slight smile to your lips.

“Only if you are ready to answer more questions about our past.” You reply, finally opening your eyes to face him. He meets your gaze steadily, his arm reaching out to bring you against him. “I thought maybe talking might help me to understand, to jog my memory quicker.” You brush a stray hair from his face, the action softening the tenseness of his features.

“Very well.” he breathes, as if steeling himself for the worst. “I’ll endeavor to answer any questions you may have.”

“Do you have a mask? Like Lahabrea and Elidibus?” He seems stunned by your question, as if he was expecting something else. “I would think through your memories, you would realize that all Amarotines wore masks.” he answers, a hand moving to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch on instinct, the warmth of his hand soothing you.

“I suppose what I really meant, is do you still have it?” you try again, carding more strands of his hair through your fingers. His head tilts, without him realizing it you’re sure, to allow you better access. It has always been like this, ever since you had learned to connect with your aether. You move independently, yet in sync, a dance that neither you have practiced for and have never forgotten. “Yes, I still have it. To remind me of them.” he whispers, moving to let you lay your head upon his arm.

“Does me asking you things about the past make you uncomfortable?” you inquire, your eyes catching the suns rays making them twinkle like jewels. 

“It is not that it makes me feel uncomfortable as much as it is...surreal.” He answers, his eyes seeming far away for a moment. “To have spent so long alive, traveling through age after age, to shard after shard. To see your soul wither and die, never reclaiming the vibrancy it once had. Then, to find you as you are now, to see it shine the brightest it ever has in years when I had given up hope,” His hand moves to squeeze your shoulder, his soul fluttering with that very hope he spoke of. “I thought you lost to me forever.”

You can’t help but feel a bit wrapped up in myriad of his emotions, as they are so overwhelming, so much more than any mere mortal could hope to feel. It takes effort to keep yourself grounded, to stay your course as he had asked. “I’m glad that you found me again...that we found each other.” You believe the words yourself, even if you did not count the affection he showed in your memories. “I worry though, for my own mortality,”

He shakes his head, finger coming to press against your lips. “As I have told you before my love, all you must do is continue as you have been. I do not worry for your mortality, and neither should you.” His smile is warm, taking your breath away as he looks as in love with you then thousands of years ago. Your worries are eased, seeing that even despite the state of your soul, that pales in comparison to his own, that he still loves you.

“That makes me happy.” You find yourself returning his smile, burrowing yourself further into his embrace. Even if you might never be who you once were, you still could try to meet the expectations he had for you. To put every lightwarden to the sword, and absorb that light and contain it was definitely easier said than done. But looking at that smile, you would do anything to keep it around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did i end up with the most kudos to this ship. i dont even go here


	15. Connect

Your weapon practically glints in the low light of the room as your calloused hands, worn and torn from battle slowly show a gentleness to your weapon that most would think you incapable of.

Still, you surrender yourself to your habit; a time of peace before a big battle you know comes on the morrow. It is almost a time of bonding, of clutching your weapon that is capable of life in death in that the death of one can save the lives of thousands. At least, that’s what you hope to achieve by defeating Vauthry, ignoring the looming possibility of the light within you tearing you asunder.

“You become more and more like yourself, with each passing day.”

Slowly, you gaze up from your work, seeing _him_ haloed in the moonlight of your open window. Shadowed in darkness, his silhouette looks every bit imposing, even with his signature slouch as the weight of his lost world sits upon his shoulders.

“More like myself?” The words on your tongue taste strange, mumbling them to yourself once again. “Was it not you who told me to not think of myself as two separate beings? To not think of myself as the past?”

You can barely see his brows furrowing in the darkness of the room, his aether brushing against yours almost harshly. You refuse the connection, staring him down until you get an answer from him. “You remain as unrepentant as ever.” you huff, turning back to polish your weapon. Before you can even put cloth to metal, it vanishes from your lap, and you slowly begin to count backwards from then. “And _childish_ as ever.”

“Childish?” He repeats, sounding truly offended. “I liked it best when you did not have so many of your memories returned to you; you weren’t nearly as mouthy.” He tuts, watching as you slowly rise from the floor.

“I am not _mouthy_ , I am angry that you interrupted my ritual.” You growl, moving to stand before him. Your aether buffets against one another, his resisting your anger far too easily but you won’t back down. “A ritual, that you know of too well Emet-Selch.” you speak lowly, not bothered by his frown.

“You are so serious hero, engaging in such an activity as if you might perish. Do you not have faith in your own ability?” He purrs, voice low as those golden eyes twinkle in the low light. It never ceased to amaze you how bright they sparkled even in darkest of rooms.

“I am not worried about my own ability. I don’t know what to expect from you should I fail, and that is what worries me.” You begin to turn away from him but a rough hand on your arm brings you back to him, staring into stony eyes. He is searching for something again, but you don’t know what else he could possibly look for. “Release me. Unless you plan to enlighten me on whatever plans you have in store.”

You jerk your arm to free yourself, but he only grips you tighter, nearly to the point of pain. “Does it bear repeating?” he whispers in the quiet of the room, barely audible. “Have I not already said that I would not let you go, after going so long without you?” The look he levels with you has your knees feeling weak, a distant memory teasing at that final barrier in your mind. Even still you won’t let him charm you like this, unwilling to stand down and let him seduce his way out.

“Look at you, so full of defiance, so willing to face me, despite the imbalance.” His tone has dipped back into that condescending edge, his other hand coming up to cup your chin in hand. “Such ferocity...such will.” Eyes half lidded, you feel rather than see the darkness creep along your skin, becoming suddenly aware of how little clothing you wore at night. It writhes up your legs, feeling much like a caress. “We have always been like oil and water in most ways.”

“Is that why you’ve not ceased to infuriate me, despite the state of my soul?” You growl, resisting the urge to press into him. His eyes narrow further, feelings that felt both your own yet not bubbling forth. You pay little mind to the dark magic as it slips under your clothes, caressing soft skin. “For someone so powerful, you know how to hold back.” You lean in close, lips nearly brushing his jawline. “When will you finally take me, as you did so many years ago,” 

Your sentence is stopped entirely as his hand covers your mouth, his eyes the fiercest you have ever seen him. There is a great amount of rage there, a torrent of lust buffeting against your aetherical senses as you stand strong against him. “You have not yet earned the privilege.” The words are hissed, the temperature in the room seeming to drop several degrees though that is not why goosebumps raise on your skin. “You still have not given me what I desire.” Grabbing you roughly, he brings you close against him, tendrils of magic binding your wrists together. He does not deign to divest you of your clothing himself, simply snapping his fingers once to leave you bare and wanton before him.

He gazes upon you quietly, eyes ablaze with lust, his movements still precise as silk gloved hands glide across your skin. “You think to appeal to the rash young man of your memories. So ready to exchange words and argue and fight at the drop of a hat.” His smile is fond, as if thinking of a pleasant memory. “Unfortunately for you, sundered as you are, I have had the centuries to grow from the...man I once was.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as he lowers you to the bed, unsure how you got so near it in the first place. “I have had centuries to learn control.” There’s no breaking out of the magic he has bound you in, no fighting against his form as he hovers above you. “What is it that you want?” Your breath is shallow, chest rising and falling, back arching as you try to get any sort of contact. A smirk slowly forms at his lips, a single hand trailing downwards. 

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your chest, so deceptively gentle. You arch into his touch immediately, wanting more, but too prideful to demand it. “Shall I awake more memories of yours?” he murmurs, breath tickling the fine hairs on your skin. His tongue darts out, licking further down that has you shivering in his hold. “Memories of where our bodies would be tangled for hours upon hours on end.” You release another shiver as his breath runs over the trail his tongue had left, watching with hazy eyes as he lifts a hand to his mouth, holding your stare as his teeth gently tug the glove off his hand.

That hand now reaches for your chest, groping and teasing, brushing across a nipple but never pinching it betwixt two fingers. The other glove soon follows in a similar fashion, the hand that was hidden beneath it snaking under your back to press you closer toward him, where the arch of your back could do no more. You writhed against him as best you could, your legs trapped between his as he did nothing but touch you. As the minutes ticked by, you could sense a feeling of that _reverence_ from before, his aether though still tense and coiled tightly against him, still out poured a wave of admiration as he tended to your body.

“Emet-Selch,”

He nips you with sharp teeth, earning him a high squeal. “My name.” He orders, hand trickling down to where your arousal lies needy and wanting between your thighs. He runs his fingers across it, your hips jerking into his touch as best as they can in this position, a broken cry of his name from your lips. “Such impatience. A drawback of your mortality.” he sighs, trailing his fingers, teasing lightly. “In the days of eld, did I worship your body for days in the same way I worship his grace...” he places a gentle kiss to your chest with a smile, distracting you as he slowly slides an oiled finger inside you. “In a way, you had tempered me then.” His laughter is light, as if you are not falling short of begging for him to touch you.

“O-Only you could make light about being tempered...” you manage to get out, words failing you as he slides another finger inside, your long moan reverberating off the stone walls. “Hades,”

“Shh. No talking.” He begins to thrust his fingers, slowly driving your pleasure higher. “You do not have days but only mere hours, before you must march to determine the fate of this star.” Taking your chin in hand, he bids you to face him, smug as if you are not willingly not walking into your potential death tomorrow. “Are you afraid hero? Of what’s to come?” He curls his fingers to hit that spot within you, making you lose your breath for just a brief second. “Are you ready to put your life on the line for these miserable failures?” He increases his pace, not breaking his stare as he pleasures you.

“T-They are not,” you can’t find your words, not under the sheer amount of ecstasy he puts your body through. “Please Hades, more,” you beg, finally giving in, whining as he slows his pace. 

“Not yet, my love.” He coos, spreading his fingers within you. “I enjoy hearing you call my name far too much.”

_“You shouldn’t say such...embarrassing things!” You blurt out, tugging your hood further down over your face. Flowers burst to bloom around you, almost wildly out of control.  
_

_“Well I must, if they cause such beautiful magic to be created.” Emet-Selch’s laugh is as clear as a bell, making you turn to face him once more. Slowly, he peels his hood back, dark hair mussed save for the one silver lock in front of his face. Reaching out he plucks a flower, lifting it to his nose as he takes a whiff. “Your happiness breeds such interesting creations. Could you blame me for flattering you so?”  
_

_Making his way near you, he slowly pulls your hood back, pushes your mask away from your face. “Would you allow me the same pleasure? Perhaps then you will understand.” His voice is the gentlest you had ever heard it, a tenderness so genuine, you murmur your name silently. “What was that?” he asks, leaning in closer._

_“P-Persephone.” you grumble, watching as a grin spreads across his face.  
_

_“Persephone.” He repeats, rolling the name around on his tongue. “Persephone. Persephone.” A grin grows on your face with each iteration, heart beating out of time as he tries to taste each syllable. Your face heats, hands coming to cover your cheeks, which surely must be steaming.  
_

_“Persephone.” He says it with such adoration, that it nearly blows you away. Smiling, he peels your hands from your face, replacing them with his own. “Now you understand don’t you?”_

“I do understand...” you breathe, releasing another frustrated moan as he denies you again.

“Understand what?” He asks, staring back into your eyes.

“That I want you to call me...Persephone.”

In that instance, there is a perfect stillness, his expression so blank, his body so still you feel as if time itself might’ve stopped. It is only as a hand moves to cradle your face, that you are you rooted in reality, feeling his aether crash against yours. “You know your name.” he whispers, pulling his fingers from you. Your bindings break, arms moving to wrap around him as his clothes melt away, his forehead resting against your own. “You know your name.” he repeats, moving to kiss you so passionately, you struggle to match him.

There is urgency to his movements now; his hands spreading your legs so that he may get between them, letting you feel his length against your thigh. “So long, so long have I waited,” he lines himself up with your opening, the head easily slipping inside that has you throwing your head back in ecstasy. As he slowly pushes inside, he shrugs your arms from around him, taking them in his hands and pinning them to the bed, eyes dancing across your body. A choked moan passes his lips, arms trembling as he slowly reigns in the control he had flaunted but a while before.

You had never felt so full, nearly at a loss for the sheer perfection of him filling you. His fingers could never do justice to what it felt like to being physically joined with him, leaving you afraid that if he did let you connect on that aetherial plane, you might truly be too overwhelmed with too much sensation that your mortal body could handle.

Slowly, he moves once he feels you’ve adjusted, your legs locking around his hips, your hips meeting his thrusts as best you could. You hear him whisper a curse in some foreign tongue, his eyes clenched tight as he lets out a long moan, finally opening his eyes to look at you. “Persephone.” He whispers, the sound of your name on his lips ringing in your ears just as they had millennia ago. His hands rove across your body, as if they cannot decide where to stay, what to touch. All you can do is moan and whimper beneath him, eyes shut tight as wave after wave of bliss assault you.

“Faster,” he cuts you off with a kiss, your tongue dancing with his as his hips go slower in what must be spite. The fire in your belly burns steadily as he pulls nearly all the way out, only to push back in to let you feel the length of him. With each plunge does your barrier crumble, allowing his aether slowly to blanket your own. The feelings of his love and his lust are slowly reflected against your own, until it feels as if you become nothing but pure _feeling_ itself.

You can barely hear him in the fog when he speaks. “Magnificent, is it not?” It’s almost as if his voice echoes around you, as if he has pulled you into that plane where only you and he exist, but you can still feel yourself rooted in the reality that is the First. “It has been some time for myself, and how I have missed it...to be truly connected.” His face hovers above your own, looking so unbearably composed in comparison to the lust filled mess you feel like. “You are doing well, for it being your first time.” he praises, giving an unexpectedly hard thrust that has you crying out. “How long can you last I wonder?”

Magic pours across your wrists, keeping you bound so that his hands remain free to roam across your body, his mouth following suit. Soon enough he does spirit you away to that realm of his making, darkness filling all of your senses. Time feels as if it ceases to flow as he controls your pleasure, having long lost track of the orgasms he saw fit to assault you with. If this is what he had held back for so long you know already that you would’ve never gotten anything done. You would have spent those hours and those days tangled with him as he spoken of, even as the world fell apart.

The thought that his hold on you was that strong, was only mildly concerning.

He clutches you tightly, the two of you on your side, his arms wrapped around you as he slowly rocks his hips against you. You are _tired_ , but can’t find it within you to deny him. “I can feel your exhaustion.” he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, burrowing his face there as his hips increase in speed. “We have been at it long enough.” You’re glad he’s whisked you away far from the Pendants, for the sounds of your coupling are so lewd and so loud that there would’ve been no covering up just what was going on inside your room should someone stop by for a surprise visit. His hands do not roam, just hold you snugly against him, your back to his chest as he drives his cock as deep as your body will allow.

You can barely cry out his name anymore, throat raw from saying it far too many times. You only moan weakly with each thrust, feeling his mouth open so that his teeth may scrape gently across your neck. “Persephone.” He breathes, and you feel the connection slowly warble around you, his aether wound even tighter than before. “Oh, _Persephone_.” The sound of your name from his lips has you coming around him, crying out pitifully as your body clenches around his length. With a few more thrusts he follows suit, more prepared to deal with the assault of his aether that would leave you drowning otherwise.

As the two of you catch your breath, you close your eyes for but a moment, opening them again to see the moon of the First outside your window. It seems like it hasn’t moved, and you wonder if time moves differently in whatever pocket of the universe he stashed you away in, or if it moved at all.

Nothing is said as cool night air brushes across the two of you, content to remain with his length inside your body, as you close your eyes for the final time that night.

And as usual, he is not there when you wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say for this not being like my main ship or anything, thank you so much for all the kudos! I never would've thought this would've been so well liked or responded to, and I appreciate every last one of you who reads this. Thank you so much.


	16. Look

_“Emet-Selch,”  
_

_“Do not think to beg with me Persephone, it is the only way,”  
_

_You bite down hard on your lip, tears stinging at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Not for this, not because of him, even as news of the star falling apart reaches Amarot._

_“You are tempered, Emet-Selch, you are but a slave to the will of Zodiark,” Your words are cut off by being pinned to the wall, eyes wide as a red mask glows before you.  
_

_“Never, speak of Zodiark that way again.” He growls lowly. His mask shines a stark red before you, your eyes wide as fear slowly starts to sink in, too shocked to fight back. “By His grace he has saved this star once, and he can--no will do so again.”  
_

_Reaching up, your clutch the hands that are keeping you pinned, hearing the desperation in his voice. “Hades,” you whimper, struggling in his hold. “You do not see what he is doing to our home! To you! To us...” the tears finally fall, running down your cheeks as those golden eyes you came to love so much now glare at you so fiercely. “Hades please, there must be another way,”_

_“I already told you there is not!” He all but roars, the room shaking with the force of his power. “I do this for us, to save our home,” Taking your face in his hands, he bids you to look at him, nearing his face to yours. “Everything I have done, it is to keep you safe. I have already spoken with the other members of the convocation, the plan is set. There is no turning back. You must simply go,”  
_

_Finally summoning your strength, you throw him off of you, making sure to put distance between you two. “I will find another way.” Your voice is strained, tinted with betrayal as you look at your lover, his mask fading away. “He will not be happy until the world is consumed entirely! I will find another way!” You cry, doing your best to ignore the pained look Emet-Selch gives you as you turn away from him._

_“Persephone!” He shouts, clamoring to his feet to reach you.  
_

_You don’t look back, whisking yourself away._

Could you really be surprised?

You had heard once, when you were younger, that those closest to you would always hurt you the most.

That proverb floats in your head as you kneel upon the ground, the crackling of the light aether within you making your arms shake in the effort to stay upright. Tears fall from your eyes as you meet the cool, smug gaze of Emet-Selch, the Exarch having been whisked away to Hydaelyn knows where.

“E-Emet-Selch...” you cough, white bile spilling from your mouth as your body convulses in pain.

“Now, now, don’t look at me so hurt, hero.” His voice is distant, condescending. “I had bid you to do your job, to slay every lightwarden and contain the light. You have failed, which I will allow you to blame on your current form...” He sounds disappointed, though his lips remain in that infuriating smirk. “Worry not. As always, I have a backup plan.”

“I don’t,” you pause as you retch, strength slowly slipping away, “think I like the sound of that.” Your vision is blinding at the edges, the cries of the Scions falling on deaf ears as you focus solely on the man...no... _monster_ , before you. “You are still too eager to sacrifice so much for your goals...” you spit out, baring your teeth at him. Muted anger twists at his face, meaning you must’ve hit the mark. “You are hiding something from me.” You don’t mean to sound as desperate as you do, but your voice wavers as your arms finally give out on you, your body crumpling into a heap on the ground.

“Cease your whining.” He tuts, crossing his arms as he looks down on you. His footfalls seem loud as he approaches, the cries of your friends increasing as he kneels beside you, a gloved hand tilting your chin to make you look at him. You gasp as you see an almost pleading note to his gaze. “Do not fight it.” He whispers harshly, searching your eyes for something. “Do not fight me once again Persephone.” He whispers so softly, his aether reaching out to brush against your own. It is almost soothing as it makes contact, the pain of the light within dimming slightly. “I can...we can end this. Leave these miserable shades behind. _Come with me_.” he begs.

You look at him conflicted, your heart feeling pulled from both ends. The Scions desperate cries tear at your heart as much as his lonely, desperate eyes do, and you’re sure he can sense your turmoil. “There must...be another way...” you whimper, crying out as he grips your chin tightly.

“You are too much like yourself.” He growls, releasing your face. “If you are as convinced as ever to stay true to your path...” The resentment that brushes against you is almost crushing, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. “Then you will meet me in my domain...it is where I will take your precious Exarch as I try to dissect his abilities.” He stands once again, shoulders slumped as before.

“I do not have to give you directions how to get there, I trust.” Are his parting words.

He whisks himself away.

He doesn’t look back.


	17. Seawater

What a cold, dark place.

Though you suppose that would be expected for an Ascian. 

You’ve abandoned the Scions, using everything within your seemingly infinite well of power to silently vanish from your bed and venture to the shores of Lakeland. The water laps gently at your feet as you dip a toe in and you silently thank Soroban once again for the gift of breathing underwater.

You never considered yourself the strongest swimmer, but thankfully you have a manta ray at your side who does most of the work for you, your eyes barely catching the shimmering coral reefs as you glide by atop your companion. All you must do is focus on that tug; that tether that binds you and he together, more aware of it’s presence than ever before. 

Somehow it did not feel so strong before his absence, and you wonder that even when he disappeared to wreak whatever havoc he had caused, a piece of him stayed with you.

Perhaps he had really meant it when he said he would be watching from the shadows.

A stream of bubbles flow from your mouth as you reach deeper depths, the rays of the never ending light having long since abandoned you. You admit you feel a bit cold, a shiver running down your spine as trepidation trickles down your neck.

Were you going to your death? By his hand? Or would you turn? Would he truly sit there and watch it happen, emotionless? Would he decide to save you? 

The questions had bounded through your head in your unconscious state, worn and torn from your battle at Mt. Gulg. You had felt as close to death as you had ever felt that day, your heart piecing itself together as much as your body had been.

Suddenly there is a spark down your spine; recognition. He knows you are close. 

He knows you are coming for him.

The water somewhat shifts around you, the manta ray warbling in fear as you become swept into a current. You grip its reigns tight, wishing you could soothe the beast without it coming out as garbled mess and inhaling lungs full of water.

_You came._

Your eyes widen as the water around you almost seems to dissipate, the manta ray floundering for a moment as it quickly adjusts to no longer sailing through water, but air instead. Water still clings to your form as the manta ray whines in distress, as if some external force is trying to steer it somewhere. 

_Alone too. How noble of you._

You can do nothing but cling tight to the leathery skin of your flying companion as it’s ushered to wherever it’s being taken. Carefully you hold the reins tight in one hand, calling your energy forth. Even with so many of your memories returned, you could not reach that magnificence you once held; the ability to create with just thought. At most you could only physically manifest your gift in the form of ambient light, which came in handy during nightly trips. The glow starts off weak, steadily glowing until you have a decent orb in your palm. Still it’s not enough to see past what’s ahead of you. Biting down on your lip in frustration, you try not to let it get to you, that feeling of being lesser. Of deserving his condescension.

_Come with me. I can show you everything._

It was always tempting. Looking back on those memories of being able to create, of being able to bring things into being by just thinking about it, you had been tempted on multiple accounts to ask Emet-Selch to help you reach into those powers. To reach that former glory you knew he saw every time he looked at you. But knowing what you do now...would it be worth it?

What would it matter anyway? You were dying, he had said so himself. Slowly turning into a Lightwarden, the very thing he had tasked you to kill. A bitter smile twists your lips; had he foreseen this? Did he treat you so kindly, love you so deeply just to let you become a monster?

The connection somewhat zaps you, a spark of anger you realize, and you wonder if you’d been broadcasting your feelings as clear as day. Immediately a soothing note travels up your spine, the sensation cool; an apology.

 _I do not mean to be quick to anger. Not when you actually have come as I requested. You have...always brought out the worst in me, in a way._

Staring ahead, you gasp as you see twinkling lights in the distance, and you wonder just what he had hidden beneath the murky depths.

Anticipation crawls up your spine, though whether it is your own or _his_ you cannot tell. The light you had conjured fizzles from your hand, which now raises to cover your mouth as your eyes widen in awe of the picture before you.

A magnificent city rises from the depths, so tall that the bottoms of most cannot be seen. There are trees of lavender lining the streets, tall, robed figures walking underneath their boughs. The opulence would floor you, were you not several malms in the air atop your manta ray.

_Beautiful, isn’t it?_

Your lips tremble as you finally enter the cities bounds, a feeling of wistfulness curling through you...a sense of...belonging.

_Welcome home, Warrior of Light._

When salty droplets run down your face, you tell yourself it’s just seawater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contrary to popular belief im still alive, just sad


	18. Home

When your feet touch the ground of the city, your neck immediately cranes to gaze up at the gleaming spires. You can’t see the tops of most, even the bottoms of some reach to even darker depths. Lavender trees line the streets, shades much taller than you walking along and going about their days. It is gorgeous, amazing...familiar.

Melancholy.

This is your home.

Tears spring forth to your eyes, and you let them fall, let the _you_ of thousands of years ago wallow in its sorrow. Your feet carry you forward mindlessly, wandering the city streets in a daze. Many shades stop to ask if you are lost, speaking to you as if you were but a child, talking about the end of days.

As if they were frozen in a moment in time.

You think to call out for Emet, but decide against it. He had brought you here, and if he wanted to see you he would’ve shown himself by now. His very power made up the city itself, and you found yourself even more in awe of his strength. Every building was carefully crafted, beautifully constructed, expertly made.

Such is the talent of the Architect.

Despite your size there are some shades you recognize your past self. They urge you to return home, ask after how your partner, the esteemed Emet-Selch is faring. How they hope you are preparing well for the end of days.

What twisted world have you entered?

**“You must leave this place.”**

A shade stands quite a distance away from you, as if he were not talking to you at all.

“M-Me?” you question, turning to face it.

 **“You must go.”** They urge, and you were sure they would look panicked if they could. 

“G-Go where? I have to find Emet-Selch.” You say slowly, watching as the shade seems to fret, blank eyes darting about. 

**“I cannot speak here.”** The shade’s voice is urgent, hushed. **“Seek out your room.”** You don’t think you’ve heard anything more cryptic in your life, but the desperation in the shade’s tone gives you pause.

“All right. I’ll seek out my room.” You whisper, as if it is a secret. The shade nods, gone when you blink your eyes.

You try not to let the sinking feeling in your gut bother you as you question more shades, able to point you in the right direction to the Bureau of the Secretariat. Your mind races malms a minute as you wait in the queue, wondering at what Emet is trying to show you.

You’ve recovered so many memories, and yet, being in this city you feel as though maybe you are still only scraping the surface. You had no doubt there would be plenty for you to forget after all, even he couldn’t remember every minute of every day of a thousand years could he?

So...what did he have in store?

Your name is called and you thank the clerk as they hand you a simple envelope. The walk is eerily quiet as you get directions to the apartments, the hum of the lift as it takes you upwards somewhat calming your nerves.

Everything looks the same.

It doesn’t surprise you that the Architect, _your Architect_ , had an eye for detail. Everything looks exactly as it did in your memories, leaving you awash in nostalgia and longing. More memories flit through your head, tears once again prickling behind your eyes as you reach your door, the locks clicking to let you in before you can even touch your fingers to the handle.

When you push open the door, he is there.

His grin is devious, eyes sparkling like an evening sky.

“You’ve made it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated the tags. This is your last chance to jump ship.


	19. Cool

No longer is he dressed in the robes of the Garlean empire, but wearing the garb similar to what Lahabrea and Elidibus wore.

The robes of an Ascian.

As you cross the threshold, his eyes narrow at your chest, his fingers snapping as his magic curls around your skin, your gear shifting into a material so fine you are sure it doesn’t exist in the current world. You watch the robes form around you in a daze, though they are not the grand robes that he wears; they are pitch black, identical to the robes of the ghosts outside in the streets.

“There. Now you look presentable.” He hums, turning to stare out the nearby window. It’s panes reach from the floor to the ceiling, so pristine in it’s appearance that had there not been muntin bars you would’ve questioned there was a window there at all. You dare to tear your eyes from him for a moment, taking time to look over more of the room, _your_ room.

It is awash with plant life, all kinds of flowers and leaves adorning the walls. Looking down you realize it is not marble or hardwood beneath your feet, but instead lush grass, that stands tall for each step you take. Everything is _green_ , bursting with life, the room filled with a heavenly, earthly scent.

Looking at the structure, you are surprised to find the room organized similarly to your apartment back in the Lavender Beds, even though this room is far larger and extravagant. The bed is tucked against the far wall. You wardrobe is on the opposite wall in the corner, nestled against a vanity. The resemblance threatens to give you vertigo, a hand pressing to your head as memories push at the back of your mind.

“I’m surprised you made as quiet an entrance you did, seeing how brightly your soul shines, suffused with all that dastardly Light.” You did not hear him approach, did not sense his hand reaching out to lift your chin to have you look at him. “Perhaps, you know who you belong to...?” He tuts, snickering as your brows furrow in indignation.

“I do not belong to anyone.” Is your immediate response, snatching his hand from your face, his arm hanging limp at his side.

“So you say, oh Warrior. And yet, here you are.” He responds in turn, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes still hold that condescending air, as tired as they are. The corners of dark lips are tugged upwards in a smirk, his arms moving to cross themselves across his chest.

“You bade me to come, did you not?” You push past him to move further into the room, doing your best to keep yourself on even footing with him. “To come and lose my sanity; to die here I thought, but I cannot drown, as I’ve told you before.” You pause at a desk, glancing at the strewn papers atop it. “You had me come here, to watch me become a monster.”

Your hands run across the papers, their words foreign to your eye. Sighing, you reach into yourself, dip into your memories. Opening your eyes, you watch as the letters shift and change, becoming legible. A grin pulls at your lips as you reach to pick them up, only to have them turn into mist in your hands.

You whirl on your lover, eyes furious as you take in his regretful look. Those same rose colored lips are turned down in a frown, his lashes brushing his cheek for a moment before he finally meets your gaze. “I do not wish for your death.” He admits slowly, arms falling to his sides.

“Oh? And I’m supposed to just believe you?” You seethe, eyes narrowing. You let the anger, the hurt, the pain fill you, and funnel it toward him. “You shoot my friend quite literally in the back, and steal him away, the only beacon of hope this shard has had for years. You stand there and watch me absorb yet another lightwarden for the sake of this world, mocking me, belittling me and my friends! You spend months, taunting me, teasing me, of just how much more you know about me, never thinking of how much it wounds me to know so little about you.” Tears spring up from your eyes, and you watch as his eyes do not look at you, but almost past you. You do not notice your aether, bright and brilliant as it leaks from your very being, filling the room in your anger.

“Persephone, I,” He starts but you take a harsh step toward him. “Don’t _Persephone_ me!” you shout, the anger within burning hot, white hot. Light spills at the edges of your vision, but you care not. All you care is about unleashing the emotion you had pent up for so long, both on your account, and your past self.

“All I’ve ever wanted you to be was honest; and I do not just speak for myself as I am now.” You clutch your hand to your chest, tears spilling down your face. “I speak of the _Persephone_ from so long ago; for the times you hid so much thinking you were doing me favor, when all you were doing was hurting me! Hurting us,” You choke up, crackling sounding loudly in your ears as you collapse to the ground.

“Persephone,” he gasps, kneeling at your side in an instant. Curling in on yourself you cry and you cry, weakly batting away at him. “Don’t touch me,” you whine, even as your soul is threatening to burst.

“I must, I must save you,” he growls, ignoring your orders to quickly scoop you into his arms. You groan in pain as the shattering grows louder, his words become distant. You feel as if you’re on fire, your control over your mind and body slipping as you descend into madness. 

The only thing you can feel is his lips on your own, his hands clasping your face desperately. You whimper into the kiss as he bites down harshly on your bottom lip, lips parting to grant him entrance. Something cool slides down your throat, so cold that it too would be painful were it not soothing the burning within your soul. “I cannot bear to lose you. Not again. Not after so long.” You hear him whisper, your body arching into him as his tongue dances with your own, your body unfurling for him, wrapping around him as he eases your pain.

The cool sensation settles deep within, on your soul you sense, soothing the burning light within you. His lips trail down to your neck, the robes disappearing beneath his touch as he trails down your chest, your abdomen, until he is between your legs. Aether swirls around your arms to hold you in place as he cups your arousal in his hand, drawing a long moan from you.

“T-This isn’t the time,” you whine, heels pressing hard into the soft fabric of your bed as he trails his fingers along your sex. 

“I will not lose you.” He breathes, pressing a kiss to your arousal that has you moaning his name in abandon, a keening cry pulled from you as he finally presses his mouth to your flesh. “I have learned this is the best way to distract you...” he trails off, not letting a drop of your fluids go to waste. “I will do what I must to keep your soul with me.” He sighs, finally settling to focusing on his task. 

With every kiss, touch, stroke of him against your sex, does more of that cold aether pour into your body, settling into your soul until the Light no longer burns. It is akin to the soothing feeling of menthol when you were sick as a child, or the sweet chill of mint. However it does not help the fire between your legs as he lavishes you with his attention, in a way both desperate and reverent that you sob his name into the pillow.

“H-Hades,” you cry, moaning as he groans against your sex, his lips glistening from his own efforts and your fluids. “Inside me please,” you beg, thrusting your hips into his face. Your pleas go unheard as his fervor increases, until you can do nothing but cry out his name in broken spurts, your soul feeling full, oh so full.

When you come, it is not the bright brilliance you are used to. It is dark and velvety, shades of purple and gold and red washing you away as his aether buffets the Light in your soul.

“H-Hades...” You whine, finally able to open your eyes to meet his own, surprised to see affection in his stare rather than the usual smugness. “Rest now, my love.” You watch in a daze as he sits up, a hand reaching to caress your face. Your eyelids feel so heavy...

“Hades, wait,” You beg, but you feel tired. 

Oh, so tired.

“Sleep, Persephone.” 

You are gone.


	20. Code

When you wake, you do not know how much time has passed.

Surely it has been more than enough for the Scions to take note of your absence, however they would surely be without a way to get all of them below the briny depths of the water without your aid. No doubt they were pulling their hair out trying to figure out how they could all come to your aid.

There was no need. You were already too far gone.

At least, that’s what you had thought. Sitting up in the luxurious bed, you feel alarmingly relaxed. The pain, the terrible pain that had plagued you ever since you had begun absorbing one too many Lightwardens, seems to be just a dull ache. Gone is the sharp crackling you would hear as the imbalance of Light ripped at the very seams of your soul, bandaged in a way that not even Ryne could hope to fix.

Was this his doing?

Had he called you here to save you all along?

Your lips pull into a frown at that thought, thinking it impossible; not when he had turned his back on you, berated you, _hated you_....

You need to think.

Thankfully he had left robes for you to change in, not realizing your state of nudity until you had stepped from the bed. They feel as soft as they did when he had conjured them and you faintly wonder at the sense of peace you feel as it lays across your skin. There is a coolness to the threads that also provides a warmth that you know will keep you comfortable as you stand to finally take a closer look at your room.

After all, Emet-Selch is not around; that much you can sense. He is not near, not even hiding in the shadows to watch you. Wherever he has gone, it is somewhere you cannot even pinpoint with the connection between you, but at the least you hope it’s far away enough that you can browse through your own room without interruption.

Everything is as you had left it (as he had left it, considering this was a recreation), and you idly wonder if there might be things missing for the simple fact that he might not know the ins and outs of _Persephone’s_ room. The flooring turns to lush grass between your toes, flowers blooming from the ceiling releasing a pleasing fragrance through the room. It is magical to behold, your mood lifting marginally despite how unsure and dire the future ahead seems. You run your hand across the wood of your desk, noticing it is not built traditionally in the same way a normal desk is, but instead as if you had wrought and coaxed a tree into its shape. A tree in a corner blossoms with flowers and fruit, your hand reaching to pick one from it’s many branches and bring it to your lips. Taking a tentative bite it tastes somewhere between a rolanberry and a plum, and you find yourself enjoying the mix.

Fruit in hand you stride over to the many shelves lining a wall, looking at the dusty tomes and you wonder if Emet-Selch leaves dust on them for aesthetics, or if they had sat here that long. There are plenty of books on botany, the letters on the spines warping from what must be Amaurotian into Eorzean much like those papers did the night prior. You flip through the books nonchalantly, running your eyes over the material finding it fascinating, but at the same time you feel it’s not what you’re looking for.

Placing the tome back onto the shelf, a book bound in leather black as pitch catches your eye. Reaching for it the leather feels worn in your hand, as if it had seen a lot of use. Was this your favorite?

Opening the book, you flip through the pages, noticing the script is once again Amaurotian. Before you can return it to the shelf, your eyes widen as the letters shift to a different language entirely, yet one you recognize.

_‘What nonsense have you written in this book?’_

_You jump futilely towards Emet-Selch’s outstretched hand, his arm raised as high as it’ll go as he holds the book high above your head._

_‘Return that to me this instant!’ You snap, stamping your foot on the ground, growing more incensed at his sneer from beneath his mask.  
_

_‘Now, now why would I do that? Clearly you have something in here you wish to hide? What could be so secret you hide it from your partner?’ He taunts, quickly spinning away from you to flip the book open. You try to reach around him but for some reason you’re not as quick, for he’s already moved out of reach. ‘Is it in some sort of code? Is this where you’ve stored your love letters to me before our bonding ceremony -- ow!’  
_

_With a well placed stamp on his foot the book drops from your hands to his, satisfaction curling through you at his petulant look. ‘It is in code, and it is where I write down my ideas...my thoughts...’ You trail off, beginning to stroll away. ‘There are some things even I wish to keep to myself.’_

**“You’ve found it.”  
**

You are snapped from the memory by the garbled speech you recognize as the sounds the shades in the city make, clutching the book to your heart as you spin to see one such shade within your room. “Hy-Hythlodaeus?” You ask, watching as he nods quickly, and you get a sense of urgency from him once again. Somehow the name comes forward unbidden, a sense of familiarity struggling to break free.

 **“Now that you have it, you must leave.”** He urges, seeming to look nowhere and everywhere at once. His tone causes a sense of unease within you, pushing down the panic you know lurks in the pit of your stomach.

“Why must I go? I...what’s wrong?” You ask, moving to step toward him but he takes a step back. 

**“He is no longer himself.”** Hythlodaeus offers cryptically, his voice almost hushed as if someone is watching. “ **For your safety, you must leave. There is more than one way to save your soul, to save _both_ your souls.” **

Both? “Do you mean me and Emet-Selch?” You ask, watching as he frantically shakes his head.

 **“Have you not noticed a missing presence?”** He mumbles, and your mind struggles to see what he’s getting at. As your running through your mind to figure out what he means, he takes one hesitant step toward you. **“I have warned them to stay away, but you too must leave.”** You can hear that he is begging, and it pains you to not know what he wants when he is being so purposefully vague. **“The book you have, you must read it when he is not around. Halma--”**

At that moment a portal opens in the room, Emet-Selch stepping out looking less than pleased. “Hythlodaeus. What a surprise to see you here, at the end of days.” His voice is low and bites like the coldest of ice, your hands clutching the leather bound book to your chest. “Catching up with Persephone were you?” His eyes slide over to yours and your back is ramrod straight as his eyes drift down to the book in your hands. He stares at it silently for a moment before finally speaking. “Entertaining yourself while I was away? You did so enjoy your botany.”

Confusion flickers across your face for the briefest moment as you glance at the book in your arms to find it no longer has the appearance of the dark, worn leather it once had. Instead, it looks like one of the many other tomes lining the wall, though you can sense it was still the same book you were holding earlier. Quickly, you try to fumble for even footing as you sense his displeasure. “Well, you didn’t leave me with much else to do.” You grumble, clutching the book just that bit tighter. You yelp as it is yanked from your hands with a snap of his fingers, the book held in one hand as he flips through the pages with a bored expression.

Seemingly appeased, he wordlessly hands you back the book, sparing you one last glance. “Well I suppose I shall leave you to it. I did not mean to leave you here for so long. I had other business to take care of.” His gaze moves back to Hythlodaeus’ shade, an ice, cold fury in the golden depths you had come to love. “Though it would seem I still have a tad more to handle. Pray continue your reading love; I too, would like to catch up with my dear friend.”

Before you can get a word in edgewise, both Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to update! If you want to know a bit more about what I'm doing between chapters, feel free to follow me on twitter or tumblr at the same name!


	21. Wrong

Anxiety rolls like a sickness in your gut.

It has been well over a bell or two since Hades had disappeared with Hytholodaeus. You tell yourself not to worry, that surely Emet-Selch’s absolutely frigid look when he whisked himself away with Hythlodaeus’ shade meant nothing terrible.

Your gut will not listen.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you walked around the Tempest, marveling at the buildings that towered above. Despite it looking exactly as it did in your memory, you, _the mortal you_ , still cannot help but marvel at the sheer amount of aether it took Emet-Selch to recreate your home.

He was always so talented...

And he has retained his talent. Has not lost an ounce of his power since those halcyon days, and you still cannot squash the feeling of inadequacy when you compare your current form next to him. He loves you despite your obvious _flaws_ , that much is true, but only recently had the imbalance dawned on you. 

You wouldn’t say you ever feared for your life around Hades (at least not lately) or felt he would take advantage of you (he was a considerate lover after all) but the fact remained that you were still your own person, still the Warrior of Light. A powerful being in your own right, when compared to other mortals. If anyone had come close to being your equal in power, it would have been Zenos, had you not defeated him in battle and he took his life immediately after.

Standing next to Emet-Selch, unsundered Ascian, the Architect, Paragon of Darkness--

Your breath catches in your throat in how small and insignificant you feel next to him. But a shell of your former self. Watered down, knowing what it was like to simply _create_ at will, but unable to do so any longer.

All while your lover could recreate the very city where you fell in love.

“Persephone.”

You spin around at once, spotting Emet-Selch’s face of concern as he ambles his way toward you. “My love, what ever is the matter?” He asks, arms open in invitation.

You hesitate for but a second, but it’s one second too long as his brows furrow in hurt. “Persephone.” He whispers.

“Where is...the shade that had...” You tremble, unable to move either to or away from him as he continues his careful steps forward.

“It was...simply a bad memory. All shades here are made from my memory, and that one in particular, I perhaps was not thinking clearly upon its creation.” He replies gently, arms still outstretched. You finally do take a step back from him, meeting his golden gaze with a strength you do not feel.

“You would remember Hytholodaeus so poorly?” You question, watching as he stops in his tracks. The very air around you stills, his frown of pain warping into something far more fearsome. The hair on your skin raises as if you sense danger, but there are no visible monsters nearby.

“Remember him, do you?” He chuckles, but the sound is forced, _broken_. 

“How could I not? He was your best friend--”

He holds up a hand, cutting you off. “ _Was_ being the operative word my dear. Perhaps you are misremembering...” He trails off, beginning his steps toward you again. The atmosphere almost seems to darken and you cannot figure out for the life of you why, when it’s just you and Hades. You and your love...

“Once I began to court you, he grew jealous. He had been pining for you in secret. He could not respect your choice, and lashed out at you. His jealously had turned obsessive, he had tried to spin lies of any sort to get you away from me.”

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

“I apologize that I had made this recreation a bit _too_ true to form my love; I would’ve never let that shade come near you.” He coos, his eyes glittering a dazzling topaz. He stands before you now, arms circling around you slowly.

“You...Hades...” You had no way of telling him that you doubted him. No way of letting him know that you doubted his truth. 

He who bears the burden of truth...

Your arms circle around him slowly, clutching onto the fabric of his robes. “I’m sorry. I was scared.” You murmur into his many layers, hoping he cannot sense your fear. He hums thoughtfully as his chin rests atop your head, a hand gently stroking your back. The action is comforting, and you naturally melt into his embrace, like always.

“You will have naught to fear so long as you stay by my side, my love.” He purrs, leaning back to kiss the top of your head. 

“I will protect you until the end of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally got sick of updating thp enough to finally have the inspo to update this lmao. thanks for bein patient


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